Page 59 of Price of Victory
The moment we were inside, the careful control we’d been maintaining shattered completely. Aiden spun me around and pressed me back against the closed door, his mouth finding mine with a desperation that took my breath away. This kiss was different from the ones outside, hungrier, more urgent, carrying weeks’ worth of longing and regret and hope all tangled together.
I could taste the salt of tears on his lips, though I wasn’t sure if they were his or mine. My heart was beating so hard I thought it might burst from my chest, and when he pulled back to look at me, his eyes were bright with unshed emotion.
“Are you real?” he whispered, his hands coming up to frame my face like he needed to convince himself I wasn’t going to disappear. “Tell me this isn’t a dream.”
“I’m real,” I said, covering his hands with mine. “We’re real.”
He kissed me again, softer this time but no less intense, and I felt something fundamental shift inside my chest. All the walls I’d built up over the past two weeks, all the anger and hurt and stubborn pride, crumbled like they’d been made of sand. This was Aiden, my Aiden, and he was here because he’d chosen me over everything else in his life.
Our kisses became hungrier, more desperate, two weeks of separation pouring out in every touch and caress. I ran my hands through his hair, reacquainting myself with its softness, the way it curled slightly at the ends when it was longer like this. He traced the line of my jaw with fingers that trembled slightly, and I could feel the emotion radiating off him in waves.
“I missed you,” he whispered against my lips, his voice breaking slightly. “God, Rhett, I missed you so much it felt like I was dying.”
“I missed you, too,” I said, and the words didn’t even begin to capture the ache that had been living in my chest since he’d walked out of my life. “I missed everything about you.”
Then we were pulling at each other’s clothes with fumbling urgency, our hands getting in each other’s way as we tried to eliminate every barrier between us. His jacket hit the floor with a soft thud, followed by my sweater, and then we were skin to skin for the first time in what felt like forever.
The sensation of his bare chest against mine made me gasp, electricity shooting through every nerve ending. I’d forgotten how perfectly we fit together, how his body seemed designed to complement mine in every way. My hands traced the familiar landscape of his shoulders, his chest, the sensitive spot just below his ear that made him gasp when I kissed it.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured against his throat, tasting the salt of his skin and breathing in the scent that was uniquely him. “I dreamed about this, about touching you again.”
He shivered at my words, his hands fisting in my hair as I worked my way down his neck with soft kisses. “I used to lie awake at night thinking about your hands,” he confessed, his voice rough with desire. “The way you touch me like I’m something precious.”
“You are precious,” I said, pulling back to look at him. “You’re the most precious thing in my life.”
His eyes filled with tears again, but this time, they were tears of joy rather than pain. “I love you so much, Rhett. I love you so much it scares me.”
“Don’t be scared,” I said, kissing away the tear that had escaped to track down his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere this time.”
We moved together toward my bed, our hands never stopping their exploration of each other’s bodies. Every touch felt like a rediscovery, like we were learning each other all over again after too long apart. When he kissed the hollow of my throat, I felt electricity shoot straight through my nervous system, making my knees weak. When I traced the line of his hipbone with my tongue, he arched beneath me like he was trying to get closer, to eliminate even the smallest space between us.
“I need you,” he whispered, his hands roaming over my back, my sides, anywhere he could reach. “I need to feel you, all of you.”
“Are you sure?” I asked when we tumbled onto my narrow bed, suddenly needing to hear him say it. We’d been through so much pain, so much confusion and hurt, that I needed to know this was what he really wanted.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said, his voice rough with want and tenderness in equal measure. “I want to be with you, Rhett. I want to show you how much you mean to me.”
We conversed entirely in touches and sighs and whispered endearments. We took our time removing the rest of our clothes, each revealed inch of skin celebrated with kisses and caresses that made us both tremble.
I marveled at the way the dim light from my lamp painted shadows across his body, highlighting the lean muscle of his torso and the graceful curve of his spine. When I ran my hands down his sides, he shivered and pressed closer, his own hands mapping the planes of my chest with reverent attention.
“I memorized you,” he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin that made me feel like I was glowing from the inside out. “Every freckle, every scar, every place that makes you make that sound I love.”
“What sound?” I asked, though my voice came out breathless as his touch found exactly the spot he was talking about.
“That one,” he said with a smile that was equal parts tender and mischievous. “The little gasp you make when I touch you just right.”
Every kiss was a promise, every caress a declaration of love that went deeper than words could express. When he pressed his lips to the hollow of my throat, I felt my pulse jump beneath hismouth. When I traced the sensitive skin of his inner wrist with my tongue, he made a sound that was half sigh, half moan, and completely beautiful.
“I want to remember everything,” I said, my hands learning the geography of his body all over again. “The way you feel, the way you taste, the sounds you make when I touch you here.” I demonstrated, and he arched beneath me, his breath coming in short gasps.
“Rhett,” he whispered. “Please.”
I lost myself in the feeling of his skin against mine, in the way he moved beneath me like we were made to fit together. Every movement was deliberate, tender, designed to bring us closer rather than simply to chase release. When he wrapped his legs around my waist, when he pulled me down for another kiss that tasted like promises and forever, I felt like I was coming home after a long journey in the wilderness.
The rhythm we found was ancient and new at the same time, familiar because our bodies remembered each other but different because of everything we’d been through. This wasn’t just desire, wasn’t just the physical need to be close to someone. This was connection in its purest form, the feeling of two souls recognizing each other and deciding to become one.
“I love you,” he gasped against my ear, his hands clutching at my shoulders like I was an anchor in a storm. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
